“We think they're barely a week away,” Rhillian added. “It would take days just to engage the Regent, and he would delay, knowing the Kazeri ride fast.”
“And the Regent has some captured artillery from the Rhodaanis,” Kessligh finished. “His men will not use it well, but use it they will. The success of Steel formations has always been predicated on the assumption that its enemies shall not use such weapons back against them. One catapult alone would do terrible damage to tightly packed Steel formations.”
Rochan stabbed at the turf with his sword, and said nothing. Sasha recalled Kessligh's prediction in Tracato, that if the Steel lost, it would lose badly. The Steel were accustomed to victory and advance. Retreat and defensive withdrawal were not things they had any talent for.
“We need the Ilduuri,” said Kessligh. “What news of them?”
“Nothing,” Rhillian said grimly. “Not even a messenger.”
“I know them,” ventured Formation Captain Petisse, Rochan's second-in-command. “I studied at their school, and I have family there. Leading members of the Ilduuri Council favour isolation. They have their mountains-they see no need to risk destruction to come to our aid.”
“They're fools,” Rochan muttered. “Do they think to make terms with the Regent and his priests once we are defeated? It may not come immediately, but one day he shall march on them, and even their mountains shall not protect them.”
“The Ilduuri are isolated,” said Aisha. “I've travelled there, for study and talmaad business. They have never favoured engagement with their neighbours.”
“But I hear the Ilduuri Steel is strong?” said Kessligh.
Rochan nodded. “Strong, yes. And more friendly to our cause than most Ilduuris-Ilduur society is isolated, but their army is not; we often train with contingents they send to us. They have less artillery-it's hard to use in the mountains. Their cavalry are good, but less so than Rhodaani and Enoran cavalry. Their infantry is the best of us all. Fewer formations, more individually skilled. Longer blades. I warrant they'd give you Lenays a fair contest.”
“Unlikely,” said Sasha. “But good to hear.”
“And no use to us at all if they will not fight,” Rochan finished.
“We must persuade them,” said Kessligh. “Councils are never unanimous. If Ilduur had a king, then likely his mind would already be made, and all our asking would count for nothing. But councils have factions. Probably there will be one faction that will want to help, but is currently outvoted, even if it is only the Steel.”
He looked to Aisha and Petisse for confirmation. Both nodded. Rochan, Sasha noted, was watching Kessligh intently, while seeming not to. Did it rankle the great general that this foreign usurper was slowly winning command? Rochan commanded the Enoran Steel, General Geralin the Rhodaani, and Rhillian the talmaad. But only Kessligh could see the whole picture, and knew how to forge all the distinct forces together into a working defence. From the look on Rochan's face, Sasha thought that he was reluctantly reaching the same conclusion as she.
Now, if she could only corner Damon, and figure out once and for all who commanded the Army of Lenayin.
“We will send a delegation from the front,” said Rhillian. “We can appeal to their emotion. We have seen the crimes that unfold here, and we can foretell what further crimes shall come, to us and to them.”
“Who?” Kessligh asked.
“It must be me,” Rhillian replied. “The Ilduuri have never liked their Bacosh fellows, not those in the Saalshen Bacosh, nor those across the hostile border. They distrust Saalshen too, yet Saalshen at least retains access to Andal, and will be listened to. A senior of the serrinim must lead the delegation. It must be me.”
“Who will command the talmaad?” asked Rochan, with some alarm.
Rhillian levelled a finger at Errollyn. Errollyn stared back at her. Kessligh looked thoughtful. Then he nodded.
“Excellent choice,” he said. Errollyn said nothing.
“Aisha must come too,” said Rhillian. “As a scholar she is invaluable. Kiel's council too I value. And I will need warriors. I think it likely there is more than merely ideological differences holding the Ilduuri back. A general may have taken power over the council, or perhaps some other tyrant. We may need to fight.”
“I'll go,” said Sasha. All looked at her.
“Are you not in command of the Army of Lenayin?” asked Rochan.
“Prince Damon commands the army.” Sasha decided then and there. “He is better trained in large formations than I, many men are. I would do a good job, but others could do better. In the Northern Rebellion, I was surrounded by experienced warriors who did much of the thinking for me and presented me with decisions.”
“I too, even now,” said Rochan. “Your uman as well, I'm certain. Half the skill of good command is choosing able seconds and thirds. Admitting such a thing does not make a commander less capable.”
“Have no fear, General,” Sasha said with a smile, “no one who knows me would accuse me of modesty.” There were more smiles at that. “I merely speak the truth. Where I have true skill and experience is in irregular warfare. And politics. I will be more useful with Rhillian.
“My main purpose with the Army of Lenayin is as figurehead. But men do not need to see me here every day to know I am on their side. Staying here may cause complications, as not all the men of Lenayin love me and my pagan ways. Of Damon, there can be no dispute.”
Damon was watching her, grimly. Like Errollyn, he said nothing.
“She's right,” said Kessligh. “She has talent for command, but her primary strength is alone. She's wasted tied down to a large formation. She can also speak for Lenayin, and the example of an army of foreigners, who now fight to save Saalshen and her friends. She can be persuasive.”
Sasha caught Errollyn looking at her. Reunited for barely a moment, and now she was leaving him. Her look was apologetic. But she could see that he understood. If they were to have any future together, first they would have to win. That was all that mattered now.
The armies resumed their march, with the Army of Lenayin going first on the road, with lighter forces that would not churn the surface for those marching behind. The Lenays were exhausted, and fell out thankfully to camp that evening. As fires were coaxed from damp wood, Sasha watched Kessligh prepare vegetables with some spices for a traditional Lenay raal, and reflected how nice it was that there was no need for sentries tonight.
There was a jostle at the waterside amidst men and horses from various formations, yet from their banter, Sasha sensed the presence of something she had not felt from these men for weeks. It was not quite pride, she thought. The Army of Lenayin had split, its new king abandoned, with most of its lords and the three northern provinces in entirety. It was nothing to feel proud about. Yet there was an uprightness in the men, a confident determination, that had not been present even days before. She puzzled over it as she rubbed down several horses in turn.
When finished, she returned the horses to the nearest muster of animals on a grassy bank, and made her way through the camp. Lenays and Enorans sat together, sharing food and drink, and attempting communication. Sometimes there were serrin there to translate, and sometimes men found a tongue in common (usually Torovan) but often not. Yet somehow, it did not matter. Men gesticulated wildly, and laughed often, as attempts to make oneself understood became as entertaining as the substance of conversation itself. Sasha had often found it so in Lenayin, where barely a third of all peoples spoke the so-called common tongue. Sometimes, friendships between foreigners were easier without words in common, as all that came across was “friend,” expressed in a thousand different ways. These men were so happy, and so relieved to be friends, that it was a great joy just to move amongst them, and listen to their laughter.